Stormy, Candle Lit Night
by DoomKitteh
Summary: Santana knows Brittany hates when the power goes out, but she doesn't know if she's welcome.


**Summary::**Santana knows Brittany hates when the power goes out, but she doesn't know if she's welcome.

**Angsty~**

**Spoilers::** Up to Original Song

**Author's Note::** I have to say that this idea is all my friend Val's, It's all her fault she interrupted my Faberry writing! Cross posted to my tumblr and at some point in time, when I get my lazy self to do so, it will find itself on Livejournal.

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**~*~ Stormy, Candle Lit Night.~*~ **

Santana's woken up by a loud boom, as she opens her eyes there's a bright flash outside her window. She groans and rolls over, shoving one of her pillows over her head. She lets out an angry sigh as a few more rolls of thunder pound away at her eardrums.

She glances at her phone, trying not to be upset that it hasn't lit up yet.

Tries, but doesn't succeed.

She's glad she has a ridiculous amount of pillows as she grasps one between her arms and holds it to her body. A few more clouds grumble over head as she stares blindly at her alarm clock; a loud crack and the sudden pitch dark that assaults her makes her sit up quickly. She reaches blindly for her phone and stares at it a few seconds before flipping it open and scrolling to find Brittany's name. Her thumb hovers over the call button until the screen goes black.

Brittany has never liked the dark. The blond loves storms, but she hates when the power goes out. Santana knows this. Ever since she'd found out she could climb into Britt's window she's gone over and cuddled with the girl until the power came back and then she'd make an excuse to stay until morning.

Only, Santana isn't sure she'd be welcomed. Santana isn't sure she even _wants_ to go to Brittany's. It's only been a week since making an ass of herself in front of Glee and confessing to Brittany and practically ignoring the girl earlier today. She doesn't even know why she's hesitating. Doesn't know why the thought that maybe Artie actually knows Brittany hates the dark and that he's on his way, or talking to her on the phone, is the reason she's hesitating. She shouldn't care; she should just go over and not care if Artie gets hurt in the process. She wants Brittany and nothing should stand in her way.

Except…

Except it's Brittany standing there.

It's Brittany in her way because the blond would be hurt knowing Santana caused Artie to go away.

And Santana can't stand the thought of hurting Brittany like that.

She grips her phone in her hand, she has to know if Brittany's ok. She has to know that someone's taking care of her.

Santana chews on her lip as she finds Tina's number and sends her a message asking if she knows where Artie is.

She realizes, seconds later, that it's almost four in the morning and Tina probably isn't even awake. She contemplates calling Quinn, but they haven't really been on speaking terms for a while now.

She doesn't know how long she's been pacing her room when the screen on her phone lights up and _Swamped _blares through the speaker. She doesn't even know who sings it, but Tina demanded she pick her own ringtone. Santana's still debating if she likes it or not, but at least she knows its Tina calling.

"Well?" She cringes as her voice comes out hoarse.

"I'm not going to point out to you that it's almost four. I'm not going to point out to you that I wouldn't actually know, nor do I particularly care what Artie's doing at four in the morning. Hopefully sleeping like a _normal_ person. I will, however, tell you that Mike, the wonderful boyfriend he is, in all his delicious ab-y goodness, has let me know that Artie is currently tucked away in his own bed."

Santana stares at the phone in silence. Had she known getting Tina to help her write a song would give the girl a bit of a backbone she'd have done it sooner. "Uh…" Is the only thing she's capable of saying.

Tina lets out a tired sigh, "Just… just call her already, ok? Either call Artie and tell him to take care of her or-"

"Fuck that!" She shouts before slapping herself on the forehead. She hears a laugh and knows Tina had been baiting her. "Shit…" She mutters.

"I'm pretty sure Brittany could use her best friend right now."

Santana utters her thanks and hangs up before Tina can express her shock. She paces her floor again, muttering to herself in Spanish and throwing her arms around like she's trying to prove a point to someone. It isn't until a roll of thunder shakes her house does she stop and quickly throw on her Cheerios sweats and remembers to grab her bag. She nearly kills herself on the stairs from how quickly she's moving. She somehow manages to hold her phone in her mouth, using the light on it to help her see, as she digs through the kitchen drawers searching for those old candles her and Brittany used last year when the power went out.

She's half way out the door before she realizes that she doesn't have her car keys. Gritting her teeth she pulls her hoodie over her head and starts jogging in the direction of Brittany's house. Brittany has been alone long enough as it is, Santana doesn't have time to try and find her keys in the dark. Besides, it's more dramatic if she shows up soaked to the bone, right?

Somewhere around the third block the steady downpour turned into a _mother fucking flood._ Santana ignored the burn in her lungs and legs as she sprints the rest of the way.

It'd taken her a total of ten minutes to get to Brittany's. Had it been any other night, she'd have congratulated herself for still being in good enough shape to get there so quickly. But this night, this night she stood, gasping for air and staring up at Brittany's window, one arm clutching the trellis leading up to it.

"Fuck! Fuck, shit, son of a bitch mother fucking…" She continued to curse as she frantically searched her pockets and then gym bag for her phone. She couldn't just climb up without warning Brittany. The last thing she wanted to do was scare the crap out of the girl.

"Santana?"

Her head snapped up at the shaky voice. _Oh thank fuck…_ "Britt- I…" She took a few deep breaths; her lungs still ached from her sprint. "I- I came to…" She glanced down and lifted the bag in the air. God she was such an idiot. She'd avoided Brittany the entire week and then snapped at her in the hall earlier that day and now here she was, standing in the fucking rain and she couldn't even string together a whole sentence.

She didn't see Brittany's hesitant smile, "It's really dark, Santana." Her voice was soft but Santana could still hear the trace of fear laced in it.

She wasted no time in scaling up the trellis, half way up she slipped and reached out for the nearby tree to steady herself. She took a few calming breaths before carefully trekking up the final few feet.

Brittany pulled her through the window and Santana barely held back a choked sob as the blond wrapped her arms around her.

"You're all wet."

Santana let out a watery laugh, "Yeah…" She chuckled; glad her face was wet from the rain so the few tears that escaped weren't noticeable.

"Come on, I brought some candles." Gently pushing Brittany away, Santana grabbed her bag and set the candles around Brittany's room. She turned around as Brittany handed her a towel and some dry clothes to change into. "Thanks." She couldn't ignore the hurt she felt as Brittany only nodded and retreated to her bed.

She wanted to be angry.

She wanted to be furious.

This was Brittany's fault.

But it wasn't.

This was all Santana's fault.

Her fault for taking so long to finally feel brave enough to tell Brittany what she wanted.

And now they couldn't even be in the same room without awkwardness settling in.

After changing, in the bathroom of all places, (something she's never done before) Santana tentatively crawls into the bed and sits front of Brittany.

For a few minutes the only sound is from the storm outside and Santana's nervous fidgeting.

Brittany lets out a whimper as the wind blows out one of the candles and Santana suddenly finds herself holding a crying Brittany.

Her heart breaks as she shuffles them around so they're lying underneath the covers. "I'm here, it's all right…" Santana whispers, her fingers brushing through Brittany's hair.

"I didn't… I didn't think you'd come. I- I hoped but…" Brittany sniffles but continues. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Santana hushes the girl before she could go any farther. Brittany's blaming herself; of course she's blaming herself. That was the last thing Santana wanted. She was here to make sure her _best friend_ felt safe and here Brittany was sobbing into her arms apologizing for… for being Brittany.

Crap. She even blamed Brittany. Well earlier, when she was caught up in the moment. Now, after agonizing hours by herself, she knew it was her own fault.

She pulled Brittany closer, trying to hug away their pain. She readied herself for this huge spiel, apologizing for being an idiot, for belittling this thing they'd been doing, for everything.

The words wouldn't come out, though. She still hurt, it was hurting her now, holding Brittany like this and being too afraid to do anything more. For once in her life she was thinking of someone else's relationship and she hated it.

Instead she pulled Brittany tighter into her, waiting until the blond fell asleep before getting up to blow out the candles.

The heartbroken 'I love you.' vanished into the stormy night.


End file.
